Sidekick
by JaganshiKenshin
Summary: The hotel's haunted, Kurama's frazzled, and Hiei has not only his sword, but a cowboy accent. Can this assignment get any worse?
1. Sidekick 1: Call Me Gizmo

Disclaimer: Kenshin does not own the Yuu Yuu Hakusho characters (they are the property of Togashi Yoshihiro et al), and does not make any money from said characters. Don't sue.

What Kenshin does own, however, are all the original characters in this work. Any attempt to "borrow" these characters will be met with the katana, or worse.

As canon, I use a combination of the Japanese anime and the American manga. The events in _Idiot Beloved_ take place right after the Dark Tournament; _Firebird Sweet_ continues. Most of my shorter fics continue with that timeline.

_Sidekick,_ in which I have fun with titles from classic cowboy movies, marks the conclusion of the Cowboy Trilogy. Hiei is now back in Japan, after _Once Upon A Time In The West_(to which he refers here). AND we re-introduce Kurama's viewpoint, which I've sorely missed.

Title: Sidekick (1: Call Me Gizmo)

Author: JaganshiKenshin

Genre: Action/Adventure, Humor

Rating: K+/PG-13

Summary: Hiei's claiming to be a cowboy, Kurama's frazzled, and to top it off there's a haunted hotel. Could this assignment get any worse?

A/N: Thanks for reading this, and I appreciate your reviews! Thanks also to Elki for helping me understand not all my readers are familiar with the YYH background.

A tight spot with Hiei and a sword? Not Kurama's best day.

Sidekick (1: Call Me Gizmo)

by

Kenshin

Sharing an enclosed space with Hiei is an exercise in developing patience. When said space is the size of a broom closet and there isn't enough ambient light to think, it streaks past the realm of patience straight into pig-biting insanity. Besides, his sword was jabbing my ribs. "Could you move a little to the right?"

Hiei obliged, though not without a verbal jab. "Know what your problem is?"

I kept silent. If you disregarded the gritting of my teeth.

"You just don't know your place."

"WHAT?" I couldn't stop myself.

"Gotta be the smartest man in the room-the leader-the top dog."

"I do _not_." As though adding punctuation to my churlish remark, a faint rumble of movement drummed beneath my feet. I also heard the eerie tinkle of-cocktail music?

As quickly as it had registered, the music was gone. The fact that I had heard it left me with a sense of foreboding.

"But in this situation," Hiei added, "I'm the cowboy, you're the sidekick."

"Cowboy. Really."

"I've ridden a horse." Hiei sounded like a cat who swallowed a solid-gold canary.

"You're _afraid_ of horses," I reminded him.

"Not any more. Have you ever so much as seen a horse?"

"Yes," I replied. "I'm sure of it."

"On television."

"No, a real one."

"Where, at the races? Trailing behind Shay-san?"

"Well..."

Upon his return from America, Hiei had been insufferable. I don't particularly care for this role-reversal. I prefer Hiei grumpy and easily provoked, not the other way round. It leaves me feeling childish, off-balance, all too ready with a defensive reply.

"I rode a race horse," Hiei added smugly.

"You did not."

"I did. Jockey Stomper. That should summarize it for you."

"When did you do this?"

"Last month."

"Where?" I challenged.

"Arizona."

I said, intending sarcasm, "Did you win?"

"In spades."

"You never mentioned."

"You're not my nursemaid."

"Cowboys are not the same as jockeys," I said feebly.

"Excellent observation. I'm the cowboy, you're the sidekick. And as my sidekick, you need a sidekick name."

I shut my eyes. "This should be fun."

"Think I'll call you Gizmo."

"Gizmo."

"For all the junk you keep in your hair."

"Not this again," I said. "Do I bug you about your sword?"

"Seriously, do you ever wash it?"

"I wasn't aware your sword needed me to wash it."

Hiei was bulldog-persistent. "Or do you just re-load every time you take a shower?"

"Of what possible interest is the state of my hair?"

Hiei waved an eloquent hand. "Getting stuffy in here."

It was not stuffy. It was icy on this warm October day, another anomaly which set my teeth on edge. "Save that hostility for the opposition."

"Just passing the time," said Hiei.

The elevator dinged. The doors slid open. With growing apprehension, I stepped into the unknown, Hiei at my heels.

(To be continued: An unpleasant surprise awaits.)

-30-


	2. Sidekick 2: Custer's Last Standee

Please read Disclaimer in Chapter One

Title: Sidekick (2: Custer's Last Standee)

Author: JaganshiKenshin

Genre: Action/Adventure, Humor

Rating: K+/PG-13

Summary: When Kurama and Hiei try to discover who's behind a haunting, _they_ become the hunted.

A/N: The Taiyou Lake House is modeled after the Lake Minnewaska Cliff House in New York, which first opened in 1879 and has undergone renovation more than once. Thanks for reading this, and please review!

Stop talking like John Wayne or I'll have to kill you.

Sidekick (2: Custer's Last Standee)

by

Kenshin

Hanging back near the elevator, we looked around.

The elevator opened onto a dimly-lit hallway replete with peeling, mildew-stained wallpaper. A few steps to the right was a half-hearted atrium, with boarded-up windows that had once faced a lake. To our left was more hallway.

This air of dilapidation seemed a shame, for this was the renowned Taiyou Lake House.

Once, the Taiyou Lake House had been a place of quiet elegance, where city dwellers took their leisure within its European-styled walls. Now-

I set my jaw. "Shall we get on with it?"

Hiei gave a curt nod. In a Black Watch tartan shirt, black tie, and pressed black slacks, he presented a neat, professional appearance.

He could, in fact, pass for any young businessman on Casual Friday, but the effect was spoiled somewhat by his spiking black hair, crimson eyes, and the katana thrust through his belt.

Anyone on the premises might spot that sword and question Hiei's choice of sidearm.

But all throughout the weed-choked parking lot, the disused tennis courts, and the lobby, we had not encountered a soul.

Here on the second floor, an eerie chill settled over us.

During the long drive up from Tokyo, I had spent most of my time in study. But as Hiei had eased the rented mini-van onto the mountain pass leading to the resort, I put aside my reading.

Through crowded trees bright with autumn foliage, I caught a glimpse of the Taiyou Lake House.

A long, wooden-frame building, four stories high, it perched at the edge of a towering cliff. The lake below was deep and wide, reflecting the clear blue sky. The resort's gallery of piazzas and gables faced the lake, and thick evergreens rose from the water's edge, softening the stark cliffside with hues of sage and viridian.

In times past, the Taiyou Lake House was famous for its amenities, expressed in dining and dancing. Boating and golf. Tennis and hiking. Board games in the lounge. Cabaret acts for the pleasure of the 300-plus guests.

Lake Sunshine. I suppose it was as good a name as any.

At the water's edge lay a boathouse and dock, but no sign of boaters. The resort was long since abandoned. In its day it must have been magnificent.

Now it was simply old, dingy, dreary. It would take a madman or a visionary to realize its potential.

Entertainment mogul Fujitsu Masami was both.

I had never met the man, but Hiei had: a round and avuncular-looking fellow, he reported, whom you'd never tag as the most ferociously successful producer in Tokyo.

Bringing me back to the present, Hiei jerked his head down the length of the corridor. "They went thataway," he said.

I peered at the empty hallway. "Who went thataway?"

"Them varmints."

"Hiei, stop. You're killing me."

He gave me a mocking look. "Lost your nerve, Gizmo?"

The point of such on-the-job banter evidently serves multiple purposes. To fool an enemy into thinking we aren't paying attention; to reassure stray humans; and to amuse Hiei to the point where I want to yank out my eyebrows.

"I am in full possession of all my nerves. You, on the other hand, are getting on them."

"I ain't. Trust me."

"Trust _me._" I spoke through gritted teeth.

"Pard, the day I stomp your last nerve is the day they can butter my Stetson and call me a biscuit."

"Hiei," I pleaded.

To make matters worse, he was speaking _English._

Like any number of Tokyoites, I can speak and read a fair bit of English. But my accent-in spite of Shayla Kidd's best efforts-is atrocious.

Hiei speaks it like a native. A native of old cowboy films.

As for Shayla Kidd (the American who became the mother of Hiei's twins, Cecilia and Michael), that is one of her talents. She has an 'ear.' It contributes to her ability as a singer. Before she even knew what Japanse words meant, her accent was perfect. I've heard her do the same with French, Italian, even languages she doesn't know.

"She's got her lasso lessons today." Hiei must have read my mind. "Shay-san," he clarified, somewhat un-necessarily.

"Shayla Kidd with a lasso?" The second door to my right lay open a crack. I opened it fully, then shut it again. Just a room. No monsters. "Good thing her ethics are stringent."

"Her ethics don't worry me none. It's her temper."

Last month, Fujitsu Masami had booked Shayla Kidd in a highly successful run as "American Cowgirl" at Bongo Rive, one of his Tokyo nightclubs. She sang, performed between-song patter, and all but rode in on a horse, guns blazing.

Smart move; as a people, we Japanese are enthusiasts for all things American. Throw in the Wild West, and you are golden.

But Fujitsu-san wanted to expand his empire. With that in mind, he purchased this aging hulk situated two hours north of Tokyo. Its restoration was a prodigious undertaking, calling for a crack staff: chefs and concierges, golf and tennis pros, security, maintainance.

If he succeeded, he would provide jobs for hundreds, if not thousands of people, and put himself at the pinnacle of his game.

Moreover, Fujitsu-san had had enough of Tokyo. He wanted Taiyou Lake House not only as a business venture, but a place of residence for his wife and growing family.

The hotel's framing and exterior were sound enough, but the interior needed extensive work before the resort could be restored to its former glory.

If the gamble paid off, there would be ample rewards for everyone, including Shayla Kidd, whom Fujitsu-san had promised to book for the hotel's opening.

That part, at least, was sound business practice: install an already-successful act to draw the crowds, then book cheaper talent for the rest of the year.

There was just one problem. Work crews had been scared off.

The hotel was haunted.

Or so the workmen claimed. It might be true. It might also turn out that the hotel had been taken over by low-level demons clever enough at staging a few stunts.

Random noises had sent work crews scurrying toward the sound, only to find nothing. Equipment was moved or stolen. Lights flicked on, then off, of their own accord.

At first, workmen accused one another of pulling practical jokes. Then they refused to show up for work at all.

Everything was at risk: the show, the investment, the lasso lessons. Whereupon Shay-san had informed Fujitsu that she knew a crack team of investigators. Would he like her to contact them?

"He'll be eatin' lump sugar out of her palm like a palomino," said Hiei.

"At least the pay is good." I opened a door to my right. This was a larger room than the first, as were all the lakeside rooms, but time and neglect had eaten away at the plush furnishings. Nothing remained but a musty smell on the dirty carpet.

Out the window on the far wall, I could just detect the glint of Lake Taiyou below.

"Tell you one thing, pard." Hiei glided up to survey the room. "Ain't no ghost."

Struggling to ignore Hiei's John Wayne persona, I glanced at him. "That's right-didn't you run into a ghost back when you worked with Kuwabara-kun?" Years ago, the two of them had been sent by Father Brian McCormick to investigate some strange occurrences at a private school for boys.

Hiei nodded. "St. Joe's. An' the idiot sensed it first. Ghosts are tough varmints to latch onto, but once you've met one ain't no mistakin' it for nothin' else."

I had to agree with Hiei's assessment, if not his temporary lapse in grammar. "I don't sense much of anything except decay."

"Some yallerbelly might coulda learned to hide his aura."

"I liked you better when you were calling everyone a bastard." I continued down the hall.

Hiei indicated a door to his left. "Try this'n, pard."

"Stop. Seriously."

Hiei opened the door. This was not a lakeview room, and its dust-caked window allowed less light.

We peered inside. Shayla Kidd peered back at us.

Hiei scowled. "What in tarnation-?"

One foot up on a bale of hay, Shayla Kidd made an elfin cowgirl in rose-red satin shirt, white skirt and white boots. Leaning against a split-rail fence, she winked for all she was worth, looking as though she had just stepped offstage from some Technicolor cowboy musical of the 1940s.

It was not, however, Shayla Kidd in the flesh, but rather the 'standee'-a life-sized promotional image for "American Cowgirl."

"That gal's a pistol," said Hiei, "an' no mistake."

I had to agree with him. The standee, of thick cardboard with a glossy finish, was designed to lure people into Bongo Rive. Based on first impressions, I'd go. "But what's this doing here?"

"Maybe the trailboss put it up as a sign of hope."

"Call him and ask," I suggested.

Hiei palmed his phone, punched in a number, then shoved it back in a pocket. "Not workin'."

"No bars here in the mountains?"

"Gizmo, you don't get it. This phone don't need no bars."

"Hiei," I warned. "This has to stop."

We had not yet entered the room, but I could still detect an open door within, its tiled interior marking it as the bathroom.

Hiei inched toward the standee Shayla Kidd.

With her marigold hair and white cowgirl hat, she seemed so lifelike one expected her to say, 'C'mon in and set a spell.'

Hiei grinned up at me. "She thinks your accent's cute."

"Stop using your Jagan to read my mind."

"Can't."

Just when you don't want him to be, Hiei is as taciturn as a real cowboy. "I don't understand-"

"Somethin' ain't right," he muttered.

"I don't sense any youki."

"Look down, Gizmo."

The carpet, which I had thought simply dirty, was alive.

More than alive. It was _writhing,_ glinting with the light reflected off a thousand shiny crawling carapaces. I shuddered. "Quite a roach infestation."

"Gizmo," warned Hiei. "Them ain't no roaches."

I took a closer look. Hiei's instincts were dead on. From under the doors, from fissures in the walls, and seemingly out of thin air, came a swarm not of cockroaches, but insectile jaki.

Flexing their myriad legs, testing their wings, waving their antennae, the jaki were a sight to horrify even the most bug-happy entomologist.

'Jaki' is a catch-all classification for any variety of small youkai of such low power they can easily slip past the barriers that separate human from demon realms. They have been called the cockroaches of Makai, though not all resemble insects. Some look like rats or other animals.

Others are humanoid in form, almost like miniature oni. Oni are a massive people: hulking brutes with skins of blue, red, gold, green, optional horns, usually clad in tiger-skin togas. Koenma-sama's fearsome-looking but mild-mannered assistant, Joruju Saotome, is a perfect example.

One aspect of Hiei I shall never fathom: he has a soft spot for jaki.

He even has one that he treats as a pet, a gray-furred creature they named Squirrel. Granted, it helped save the lives of Michael and Cecilia. Still.

My own reaction to this crawling mass of jaki was utter revulsion.

As for jaki-sympathizer Hiei, even he found this particular swarm less than charming. I heard him utter a cowboy curse as the little monsters changed their mindless milling about, and seemed to move of one accord. First they swarmed the standee until the image of our American cowgirl was covered with them.

My scalp crawled. Then, having obscured the one bright spot in the room, they turned on us and attacked.

The resulting noise was like being trapped inside a hive of angry hornets. A whirl of wings, a champing of mandibles, and a myriad of venom-dripping stingers surrounded us.

I hesitated. My weapon of choice, the Rose Whip, might turn a good chunk of the jaki into bug juice, but there were too many of them for the whip alone.

And they were marching up my pants, stinging as they went.

I couldn't even look at Hiei to see how he was faring against such an enemy. Swatting a jaki that resembled a prehistoric dragonfly with fangs, I heard a cackling shriek, like nails on a chalkboard.

A panicky-looking man popped his head out of the bathroom, then immediately ducked back and slammed the door.

Can't say I blamed him. But all the workers had gone. So who was he?

Jaki reclaimed my attention, circling my head, attempting to jam themselves into my nose and ears.

Part of fighting smart is knowing what to use and when. You can have every weapon at your command, but if you deploy the wrong one at the wrong time, you could end up the loser. Or destroy innocent lives.

"Gizmo!" Hiei had not deigned to draw his sword, but was batting the bugs by hand. "Time to git!"

In full agreement, I pivoted away from the swarm. Hiei shoved me at the door first, and we ran from the room, but they pursued us, their buzz-saw sound ringing in my ears.

Down the hall toward the elevator we went, just in time to encounter another stream of jaki that cut off our path of escape.

"Dang it!" Hiei put a hand to his sword.

"No-this way!" Before he could draw the weapon, I literally pulled him in the opposite direction.

We outdistanced many of the jaki. The flying ones still dive-bombed us, but the crawling ones, looking like centipedes, scorpions and beetles, had no chance to catch up.

A threatening shout told me that one, at least, was more than a mere insect. I glanced behind me.

At the head of the pack was a jaki that did indeed resemble Joruju Saotome in miniature: human in conformation, but the size of my fist, wearing a tiger-skin toga, with skin of blue and a long, homely face, its lank yellow hair tonsured like a friar's.

Quite unlike a friar, it bounced off the walls in fierce pursuit, and it was gaining on us.

Waving a thorny bat, it bellowed at us in a gravel-pit voice, but I could not make out the words. With a tremendous final effort, it spurted forward to land on Hiei's shoulder, where it belabored his head with the bat.

It spoke, and this time I could make out its words: "Lord Hiei," it said, "Forgive me!"

"How ostentatious," I remarked. "Using that honorific."

"I don't tell 'em what to call me." In full stride, and displaying a remarkable sense of restraint, Hiei plucked the jaki from his shoulder and tossed it back down the hall.

It landed with a squeak like a dog's chew toy, where it lay blinking a moment. Then it got up and came after us again.

"Around the corner," I gasped. Pursued by a murderous miniature oni and a cloud of stinging jaki, we ran, Hiei cursing in English, me praying in Japanese that I could find my ace in the hole.

-30-

(To be continued: Can Hiei and Kurama escape?)


	3. Sidekick 3: Code of the West

Please see Disclaimer in Chapter One.

Title: Sidekick 3: Code of the West

Author: JaganshiKenshin

Genre: Action/Adventure, Humor

Rating: K+/PG-13

Summary: Beneath the surface, something lurks unseen.

A/N: Here, Hiei refers to the battle that took place during _A Cowboy's Work Is Never Done,_ while Kurama refers to a different fight in _Two Shots,_(the YYH manga 'extra,' and one of my favorites). Thanks for reading, please review!

"If you're a cowboy, where's your bolo tie?"

Sidekick (3: Code of the West)

by

Kenshin

Scratched and bleeding, we barreled down the hall and skidded into a sharp lefthand turn. I caught sight of what lay ahead, and was filled with a sense of elation.

My ace in the hole. Lady Luck was smiling on me.

"In there!" I indicated a set of metal doors at the end of the hall. We got there; I slammed a hand into the control panel. The doors slid open to reveal a metal enclosure no bigger than four feet square and six-and-a-half high. We bolted inside. I hit another set of buttons. Darkness cloaked us. There was barely enough room to stand.

For the second time within the space of an hour, we ascended with a shuddering rumble. My ears rang from the snarl of jaki.

"What in tarnation is this thing anyway?" Hiei asked. "A moving closet?"

"Close," I replied. "It's a dumbwaiter."

The buzzing in my ears subsided. I was able to think. Cynically, my first thought was about the identity of the man in the bathroom. But if he was who I suspected, nothing made sense. Why destroy what he had spent so much to attain?

"Dumbwaiter?" Hiei questioned.

"Dumbwaiter," I said. "A glorified moving closet, designed so hotel employees can bring food up directly from the kitchen."

I couldn't see Hiei, but felt him shift uncomfortably. "These here bites hurt."

"They're toxic," I informed him, somewhat curtly. Hiei had inherited a superior resistance to all manner of poisons from his father, Old Dragon, but I had no such lineage. Already the effects of the stings were working on me.

Dizzy, I put out a hand to steady myself. The wall wasn't where I thought it was. For one queasy moment, I felt as though there was no wall, no floor, that I was plunging headlong down an empty elevator shaft.

Without a word, Hiei pulled me upright. My head cleared.

Plucking a seed from my hair, I tossed it on the floor. My particular skill being the manipulation of plant life, the seed grew into the Akaru weed within moments.

In the common tongue, Akaru is called Glow Bud. It's a hardy plant with droopy, tulip-like flower head. Light kindled within its blossom, made leaping monsters of our shadows, and revealed that Hiei's face was covered in bites.

Judging by the itch, mine was in similar condition. "I see the jaki didn't spare you, even if you are their cult figure."

"Thanks, pard." Hiei stretched his hands toward the Glow Bud as though it was an actual flame. "Times like this a cowpoke really appreciates a campfire."

"Hiei."

"What?"

"I'm quite serious when I say that I am going to have to kill you."

Hiei fell silent. He was silent for a long time. Long enough for me to hope I had intimidated him into losing the cowboy patois.

I should have known better.

"Funny," Hiei mused, "them varmints having that standee."

"_A_ standee," I corrected. But doubts already gnawed at me. _That just _happens _to be of Shayla Kidd, "American Cowgirl?"_

"Maybe they found it," Hiei suggested.

"Maybe they stole it."

"Could've been a reject."

"Don't think I don't know what you're doing."

Hiei raised one eyebrow. "Oh?"

"Making me make your argument for you," I said.

"Don't you bat them baby greens at me all innocent-like."

I gritted my teeth and went on. "That man who ducked into the bathroom. Could he be Fujitsu-san?"

"Nope."

There went my theory. So it wasn't the owner, trying to collect on insurance. "Did you get a good look at him?"

"Nope." Hiei shut his eyes. "Black and black, five-three, one-thirty. Stained undershirt. Dirty khaki slacks."

"That's a police detective's description." Despite my affliction, I grinned. "Now you sound more cop than cowboy."

"Needed a shave, too," Hiei added.

"What do you make of him?"

"The bum?" Hiei shook his head. "I sensed-"

"Something?"

"Couldn't say." Hiei regarded the dull metal walls. "Will this thing hold us?"

"Couldn't say."

"How'd you know the dumbwaiter was here?"

"While you were driving, I was studying blueprints."

"That's my Gizmo."

I was getting a headache. "Seriously, stop."

"Pard, a cowboy never stops till he gets his man."

I folded my arms and glared down at him. "You just chewed up my last nerve. If you want to spit it out and stomp it some, go ahead on."

"See?" Hiei brightened. "Now you're getting it."

"I give up." The dumbwaiter shuddered to a halt. When the doors groaned open, the hallway seemed lighter, warmer.

By now, I felt really ill, but I had not brought a jaki-specific antidote. I palmed a general-purpose remedy, gulped it down. It steadied me a bit, but I was far from all right.

The corridor widened. We found ourselves in a bright atrium. Of one accord, we stopped.

Unlike the windows two floors below, these had not been boarded up. They reached nearly wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling, flooding us with light, drawing us like a magnet. Far below sparkled Lake Taiyou. Even the musty smell had retreated, as if illumination and elevation had power over it. The sense of peace it gave, however momentary, was most welcome.

But the strong daylight, many times brighter than the meager glow of the Akaru, revealed that Hiei's left sleeve had been torn off. He looked as though wolverines had been gnawing his arm.

Hiei felt at his neck. "Tie's missing, too," he griped.

"Your adoring fans must have needed a memento. Speaking of ties, why aren't you wearing a bolo tie and cowboy shirt?"

"Tried it once."

"And?"

"Exploded out of it."

"Must've been painful."

"Not as painful as what I caught up with." Rubbing his bloodied face with an equally bloodied hand, Hiei examined the hand in evident disgust. "Seems I've been here before."

"Here?" That came as a surprise. "Taiyou Lake House?"

"No, not that. But the day I wore the cowboy shirt, I had a showdown at a golf resort. Empty place. Similar set-up."

Hiei had dropped the John Wayne accent. He probably imagines I haven't noticed his modus operandi. As much as he has changed over time, that, at least, never has.

At the start of a mission, Hiei grumbles or playacts or kicks at the traces. But then he settles in, after which nothing can shake him from the task.

It was true when we first teamed up years ago to battle the demon Yatsude, who had abducted my classmate Kitajima Maya. It was true during the Dark Tournament when we fought for our lives alongside Kuwabara and Yuusuke. It is true today.

As we gazed out the window, Hiei said, "See that lake?"

"Naturally." Clouds gathered with disquieting speed. Lake Taiyou turned murky, menacing, a liquid plane of fleeting color between green and brown. A moving shadow passed through the lake. The Loch Ness Monster, for all I knew.

Again, I heard faint piano music, but only half a dozen hauntingly familiar notes.

Hiei put a hand on the window. "Gizmo, I've been bitten and stung, and I'm pretty sure some of those little bastards were drinking my blood."

"And?-"

"And I really want to just blow this dive."

"As in blow up?" I inquired. "With us in it?"

"One huge fireball. Guy's gotta have insurance. The lake-I could make the jump easy. And you're athletic enough."

There was no doubt in my mind that Hiei could turn the hotel into an inferno. He surely possessed enough firepower in the Black Dragon, and certainly in Tenchi no Hi, the sword of light.

"The Flame of Heaven and Earth might not kill you," Hiei said, again as if reading my mind. "But I'd let you jump first."

Compared to Youko Kurama, the King of Thieves who is an inextricable part of me, Hiei is a mere child. But he has a few years on Minamino Shuuichi, the human body who is also me. Hiei can be, of late, surprisingly generous.

"Kind of you," I remarked, and meant it.

He shrugged. "A cowboy never abandons his sidekick. But how the hell do you fight a legion of bugs?" He put a hand on the hilt of his sword, as if to underscore its uselessness.

He was right. A small army, stealthily robbing you of your lifeblood, is more deadly than the head-on charge of a monster.

"The Jagan Wave?" I suggested. A few years ago, Hiei had developed this wide-beam blast of psychic power, which could eliminate any number of jaki at a safe distance.

I should know. He tested it on me, and I couldn't breathe for a week.

He shook his head. "Won't work here. Same reason as the phone. Interference of some sort."

"Maybe the jaki are defending their territory. Maybe you really will be doing Fujistu-san a favor by blasting the hotel."

"For the insurance money?"

"It's built on solid rock," I said, "and a complete re-build might even be more cost-effective than repairing it."

"Might at that."

"Well?" I waited. Hiei's gaze had turned inward, his expression unreadable. "Are you going to blow up the building?"

A breeze had kicked in. Tiny ripples crossed the lake, like the hide of a huge beast shuddering.

Hiei looked up, eyes alight with fierce joy. "Only one problem," he said. "I don't like to lose."

Neither do I.

"And torching this joint in a fit of pique isn't exactly winning. Besides, there's that bum."

That Hiei refused to take an innocent human life spoke volumes. Sans accent, he seemed more cowboy than ever.

All living creatures change. When Hiei and I fought Yatsude-an eight-armed monster that consumed human flesh-it had taken all our combined might to defeat him. Now, with our current power levels, either of us could give Yatsude an eye-blink, and he'd run crying to his mamma.

Back then, Hiei was ill-tempered, closed-mouthed, deadly.

He is even more powerful now.

But over time, Hiei has, not _softened_ exactly, but rather abandoned his towering scorn for all living things. Thanks in part to the influence of our friend Urameshi Yuusuke, who had trusted him, and also Shayla Kidd, who accepted him for what he was, and Father Brian McCormick, who kicked him in the pants.

Maybe also due in some small measure to myself.

With his speed, Hiei could easily have escaped the jaki. But he chose to keep pace with me, as if he realized I was damaged by their toxic stings. Maybe he's right. Cowboys never do leave their sidekicks.

"You're annoyed," Hiei broke my train of thought, "because I speak better English than you."

"Hiei-"

"You're also annoyed at _being_ annoyed, because you don't believe such an insignificant thing should bother you."

I studied the jaki-free carpet.

"The tension between who you think you should be, and who you really are, is keeping you from performing at top level," Hiei said. "Don't need a Jagan to know that."

He was right. And with toxins still coursing through my system, I could ill afford to waste energy on trivia. I lifted my gaze, and let it all go. "Now what?"

Hiei leaned against the window. "You said the jaki were defending their territory, but it doesn't add up. Jaki are afraid of people. You'd have to practically step on a nest of their young to get them to attack."

"You're the jaki expert," I conceded. "But these aren't the lowest-level jaki."

"Meaning?" Hiei gave me a keen look.

"Ordinary people can see them. But the workmen hadn't. So why have the jaki shown themselves to us?" I wondered.

"The blue one with the thorny bat was almost apologizing. If he was defending his territory, he'd threaten us."

"Exactly. Yet it seemed to be warning you instead."

"Got options?"

I grinned. "Beat your sword into a plowshare?"

"That'll be the day."

As I pondered strategy, I became aware that something was _different_. The background silence was changing, little by little gaining strength, building into a pressure that made my ears pop. "Wait." I strained all my senses. "Do you-"

A wave of vertigo, of the whole world sliding off-kilter, swept the atrium, and this time it was not the effects of toxins.

"Someone just cast a Territory," Hiei said.

I'd suspected as much. "Ever since Sensui opened that hole to the demon plane, humans with Abilities have been popping up."

Hiei put a hand on the hilt of his sword. "Who's to say it only started then?"

We both understood he meant Shayla Kidd.

Hers is not an Ability in the same sense as Kaitou's, as she is able to pinpoint its effects, whereas anyone within a Territory will be subject to its laws. Neither is there that off-kilter, eerie sensation accompanying her powers.

Nevertheless Shayla Kidd was born with a gift-a remarkable ability to persuade people.

Until she met Hiei, she had not thought this gift anything special. But then Master Genkai (the venerable lady whose fighting techniques had been passed on to Urameshi Yuusuke) had subjected her to intense training. Shayla Kidd, star of "American Cowgirl," mild-mannered mother of Cecilia and Michael, became a powerful, even dangerous Spellcaster.

One who could literally kill by uttering a single word.

She was a little afraid of her talent, seeing it as a heavy responsibility, and no mere party trick.

"I thought someone cast a Territory back on the second floor," Hiei said, "but I couldn't be sure."

"That man we saw, the one who's not Fujitsu-san. Who is he? What's he doing here?"

Hiei put his back to the wall, his sword hand ready for action. "Go on."

"This place is miles from any source of food, and he didn't look like either a woodsman or a worker."

"Maybe he dines on jaki under glass. Or just drinks."

The pressure built; my eardrums throbbed. I felt for the rosebud in my hair. "If he's a drunk, where's his booze?"

"The hotel bar?" Hiei guessed.

I shook my head. "Stripped clean long ago."

"Maybe he used to work at Taiyou Lake House."

"And stayed on for sentimental reasons?"

A crash shook the floor. "We got company," warned Hiei.

Like nails on a chalkboard, a voice shrieked with laughter. A door burst open to our left. They were upon us.

From the magnitude of the crash, we had expected a creature to dwarf Yatsude. But-

_Not again!_

The snarling buzz of jaki reached our ears an instant before we saw them fly toward us in a black cloud. Then the floor became an ocean of them, a clacking, writhing tidal wave.

And leading the troops was the little blue jaki with the thorny bat. This time, it was riding another jaki that resembled a vulture.

Waving its bat, it shouted in that gravel-pit voice, "Lord Hiei! Stay back!"

"Such obvious favoritism." Unfurling the Rose Whip, I cracked it in a whistling arc, making mincemeat out of several square yards of jaki, but the 'vulture' dodged my stroke.

"Don't kill him!" Hiei barked. "We can make him talk."

"He's already talking. Glorifying _you._" Nevertheless I switched the Rose Whip to my left hand. In my hair I kept several Thrashvine seeds. Thrashvine is related to kudzu, and acts as a thin, tough, all-purpose rope. The more a victim thrashes, the tighter he's bound. I plucked the blue jaki right off its mount.

The vulture, deprived of a rider, veered off. I reeled the blue jaki into my pocket, where it cursed and struggled.

"Shut him up," said Hiei. "Can't hear myself think."

"Gladly." Moreover, if it kept struggling, the vine might cut it to ribbons and bloody my pocket.

Though the toxins weakened me, I still had enough power left to coax the dried of leaf of the Brazilian Manto plant. The leaf grew, seeking the jaki's warmth, wrapping itself into a cloak that seeped mild tranquilizers. The jaki shut up.

"Time to git," Hiei said, and for once I gave him no grief about his cowboy patter.

We fled toward the dumbwaiter, pursued by the sea of jaki. They broke upon us in a biting, scratching, toxic tide, swelling round our feet, crunching as we stepped on them in our flight.

Hammering down the corridor, we slipped and slid on their reeking bodies.

The dumbwaiter was open and waiting. Lady Luck still smiled on me.

Propelled forward by momentum and bug slime, we shot headfirst through those open doors.

But something had gone wrong.

My head spun; my stomach rolled up into my lungs. The dumbwaiter was no longer there. Its cables had been severed. Rather than a welcome smile from Lady Luck, the evil sorceress Gravity reached up and yanked us toward her unforgiving heart.

-30-

(To be continued: Hiei and Kurama plummet in free-fall.)


	4. Sidekick 4: Ambush

Title: Sidekick (4: Ambush)

Author: JaganshiKenshin

Genre: Action/Adventure, Humor

Rating: K +/PG-13 (for anime-style fight scenes etc)

Summary: Hiei and Kurama are headed down, down, down.

A/N: The events in _Idiot Beloved_ take place shortly after the Dark Tournament; _Firebird Sweet_ directly follows that timeline. In order for certain character development to make sense, you might read those fics in order. As canon I use a combination of the American YYH manga and the subtitled anime. I appreciate your reviews and thank you for reading this tale!

"His hands spit death!"

Sidekick (4: Ambush)

by

Kenshin

Skidding on a slime of crushed jaki, Hiei and I plunged headfirst into the empty elevator shaft.

The cables that attached the elevator to its mechanism whooshed in our wake. I clawed empty air.

Hiei's lightning reflexes saved us. He grabbed the back of my shirt and by sheer force of will-I'd have sworn it- dragged us back against gravity. Sparks showered us as some unseen metallic claw shrieked its echoing dirge.

Falling, but at less than breakneck speed, we were yet under attack. Some of the jaki followed on a buzz of furious wings. There was a flash of fire, courtesy of Hiei, and a stench of burning. They harried us no more.

All this took mere eyeblinks, and still gravity yanked us down greedily, and still we fell.

High time for Gizmo to go into action.

From the arsenal in my hair I sought a Lifeline, another relative of kudzu. This vine seeks the highest point in the vicinity, and clings like death and taxes.

As I activated the seed, a gunshot crack exploded in the shaft. Our speed tripled.

"Hang on!" I wrapped both hands around the vine. It slithered up the shaft, found some solid beam, grabbed hold.

We snapped to a quivering halt. Hiei's added weight caused the vine to cut into my hands, but given his leaping abilities, he could easily have rebounded from the walls and risen to safety on his own.

He refused. I could do no less for him.

But under our combined weight, the Lifeline thinned.

"Heads up," I warned, just as the vine failed, and gravity claimed her inevitable victims.

We fell again-but not for long. A rib-crunching thud, then darkness descended for real.

0-0-0-0-0

If a truck had run over me, I would probably not feel much worse. I pried open my eyelids.

It was still dark. Multiple loads of jaki venom had taken a toll on my strength, but I clenched my teeth and sat up.

We had hit the top of the elevator box, and Hiei was already searching for the access panel. "My sword broke," he grumbled, and drew the stub from its saya. "The other half's still sticking in the elevator shaft."

"So that's how you slowed our descent."

"Surprised it held out as far as it did."

"Will you go back for it?"

"Why bother?

Even with half a sword, even with only a saya, Hiei is a formidable opponent. We've trained against one another often enough, saya against Rose Whip.

"They saw us coming," Hiei said. "Whoever's behind this. Just about herded us through the open doors."

I got painfully to my feet. "That crash we heard-"

"Jaki chewed through the cables all right." Hiei was even now pulling at the access panel. When it opened, we dropped down into the elevator.

I crouched there a moment, getting my breath, while Hiei slid his fingers into the crack between elevator doors. I lent him a hand. I lent him both of them. The doors moved a little.

I had no doubt that, working together, an army of jaki could cut the elevator cables. But it would not be a natural action. They would need a leader, a commander, a master plan, hatched by an intellect greater than theirs.

"Come on, Gizmo," Hiei urged. "One more pull."

In a final effort, we heaved open the doors. Hiei stepped out, beckoned me to follow. I limped after him.

We found ourselves in a back hallway near the kitchen. A glance through the kitchen doors revealed stainless steel countertops, refrigerators, stoves. No jaki, no derelict. Turning from the kitchen, we hobbled down the hall.

When we reached the lobby, that too was empty. To our left lay escape, in the form of the revolving doors that led to the parking lot. To our right, the ballroom.

At that point, I had a half-formed plan to get to the car, there to plan our next move, though I feared the jaki had trashed the car as effectively as the dumbwaiter.

But the revolving doors revealed an intact mini-van. Yet oddly enough, with escape clearly within reach, neither of us wanted to retreat. Not when someone had just tried to kill us.

Nor was it a spirit of revenge that drove us on, but rather a need to know what lay behind this series of attacks.

Hiei folded his arms. "How about it, Gizmo? Ready for another assault, on our terms?"

"And what terms would those be?"

"No more reacting. We go on the offensive. Wouldn't happen to have any bug spray in your hair or up your sleeve?"

"Well..."

"Come on." He was already walking toward the ballroom. "Might as well use this for a command center."

I turned my back on the alluring sight of the mini-van and followed Hiei.

The ballroom was a vast rectangular space with few places to hide.

A bank of French doors, most of their glass broken out, afforded us a glimpse of unkempt lawn rolling toward the lake. Torchiers were set at regular intervals in half-paneled walls, and in the corner diagonal to the entryway, double swinging doors led to the kitchen. On that same wall was another set of elevator doors.

I saw little in the way of furniture apart from some chairs stacked near the French doors, and a grand piano.

And there lay the crux of the matter.

Apart from the real estate itself, there seemed nothing here of value, nothing worth killing for. So why, when Hiei and I were clearly on the run, had the suspect cut the elevator cables?

I stepped into the room. "Time to map out a counter-strategy."

"I could use a recharge," muttered Hiei.

"Couldn't we all." I felt no broken bones myself, and if Hiei had one, he'd laugh it off, call it a scratch. Yet the effects of the stings and the fall were working on me. My head felt like someone had attached a clamp to it, squeezing out my ability to reason.

"You don't by any chance carry lunch in that hair of yours?"

"Must you always insult me?"

"No insult, just a question."

"Try the kitchen if you're desperate."

"Maybe later." Hiei surveyed the dirty parquet floor. "Not much of a headquarters."

"It'll do." I cast a longing glance at the stacked chairs.

Hiei followed my gaze. "I'll get them."

"Allow me." As we went to fetch the chairs, the elevator in the corner dinged and its doors slid open.

The sickish sensation of a Territory swept over me. A man ambled from the elevator, smiling.

"I think," said Hiei, "we just made a tactical error."

"In spades." This was the man we had glimpsed earlier, up on the second floor, and I recalled Hiei's description: _"Black and black, five-three, one-thirty. Stained undershirt. Dirty khaki slacks."_ And still in need of a shave.

Seen head-on, the vagrant bore a faint resemblance to Tarukane Gonzo, the criminal who had kept Hiei's sister Yukina prisoner. On his right shoulder perched the vulture-like jaki. Its naked red head and beady eyes made me nickname it 'Ba'al.'

"Some pair they make," muttered Hiei.

Ba'al and its unshaven friend were probably a good forty feet away from us when, from minute fissures in the walls, from the hall, from the ceiling, jaki came pouring out in a clatter of claws and a whirr of wings.

They stopped, forming a circle. We were surrounded.

And the bugs had reinforcements, in the form of miniature oni, red, green, and gold, plus a great number of beasts, squat like badgers, big as wolverines and twice as fierce, all flashing claws and teeth and slavering tongues.

Ba'al shrieked with malice. "Beware the red-haired one! His hands spit death."

"That they do." I reached for my hair. The jaki inched closer. Hiei moved to stand at my side, but we were now more or less in the middle of the room, completely flanked by the enemy.

Hiei shot me a go-for-broke glance; strategy and tactics flew out the French doors.

"Ride 'em, Gizmo!" As one, we drew a bead on the bum.

Snarling, bristling, the jaki charged.

I had the rosebud halfway out of my hair when the first wave of 'badgerines' hit and bowled us over backward.

A badgerine launched itself at Hiei's throat. He plucked it away and snapped its neck, but five more took its place.

Then the bugs conducted their airstrike. It was like fighting a dust storm as they burrowed into my eyes and nostrils. When I shook my already-throbbing head to disperse them and see what was going on, a badgerine tore the rosebud from my hand.

"The little one!" shrieked the vulture. "Beware his sword!"

"Gee, thanks." Hiei was already swinging his half-sword to great effect, slicing through badgerines. I felt a surge of hope, but in moments their sheer numbers overwhelmed Hiei, too, and some of the blood that flew was now his.

Jaki swarmed up Hiei's body, covering him toe to head. One husky red oni-ette the side of a house cat grabbed his sword and flung it clattering across the floor.

The vagrant smirked as Ba'al shrieked encouragment.

From the shroud of jaki, only Hiei's eyes were visible, but he sent Ba'al a deathglare. "I'll take _you_ out, at least." Wrenching free one hand, Hiei flung a white ribbon of flame.

Shrieking, the vulture flapped its wings and rose from the startled vagrant's shoulder. But Hiei's firebolt was a demon-seeking missile, soaring in tandem with Ba'al's flight.

The flame struck home. Ba'al transformed into a brief, spectacular fireball, and then its ashes sifted to the floor, and left the vagrant to gape at the flakes of his former associate.

No time to celebrate. The attack doubled in ferocity, overwhelming us with sheer numbers. I was virtually drowning in jaki, buffeted about the ballroom floor as someone caught in a violent ocean storm. I went to my knees, and close to me, but still too far to reach the vagrant, Hiei went to the floor.

I struggled to my feet. Hiei lay on his side, badgerines tearing at him.

Though we both execute missions for Koenma-sama, Hiei also works for a couple of other agencies, and is authorized in the use of lethal force against humans. He could have thrown his broken sword straight into the vagrant's throat when we were first surrounded; I've seen him do more with less.

Commendable as it was to restrain himself, if this assault continued, the jaki would strip our flesh to the bone.

"Gizmo-!" In vain, Hiei sought to free himself. "It's all up to you now."

We had worked as a team for so long that I didn't have to wonder what Hiei meant.

I had something better than bug spray-a Kiranti pod from the Barun Valley in Nepal. When manipulated, the pod would release vapors, toxic to both humans and youkai. An interesting choice, since Minamino Shuuichi has a human body. Could I stay awake long enough to knock our foe into the next prefecture?

But I had to rely on Hiei's cowboy toughness for the rest.

I didn't need to reach into my hair. My battle against ice-master Touya in the Dark Tournament had taught me to fight with my hands tied. I had practiced since.

Concentrating my aura, I flipped my head back. The Kiranti pod burst, and its mist billowed and swirled around me in a cloying cloud.

I was treated to the first lungful. It all but sent me to my knees again.

Our foe was persistent, I'll give him that, trying on rubber legs to make it back to the elevator.

I had a fight on my hands merely to remain conscious. The Kiranti poison seeped into my nostrils, then down into my lungs, but I struggled toward the vagrant, hauling a load of jaki.

Each step proved more difficult than the last. _He_ was supposed to be breathing the poison, not me. At this rate I would go under first, giving him all the advantages.

I dragged forward another six inches. The bum glared back at me, defiant. Neither would yield.

My vision blurred. The mist stank of boiling honey and rotted flesh. All around us, weaker jaki fell like stones.

I wanted to fall with them. Jaki venom and Kiranti poison gobbled up my strength. The vagrant pulled back his lips in a snarl that mirrored the badgerine hordes.

I bared my own teeth: _I will not lose to the likes of you!_

From the tail of my eye, I saw Hiei rise to shake off his mantle of demons and slog toward me as though wading through breast-deep water.

Flinging me a glare of defiance, the vagrant staggered back. His eyes rolled up. His mouth slackened. He slid down the wall, then slumped over at last.

The strongest jaki dropped in their tracks, and we were freed of them. Hiei straightened as though a boulder had fallen from his shoulders.

My head spun, taking my legs with it.

Lunging forward, Hiei caught me just before I fell. Or maybe he let my head bounce off the floor once, just for old times' sake.

-30-

(To be continued: Will the real truth emerge?)


	5. Sidekick 5: Find A Place To Die

Title: Sidekick (5: Find A Place To Die)

Author: JaganshiKenshin

Genre: Action/Adventure, Humor

Rating: K+/PG-13

Summary: The suspect's in irons, but the real problem has just begun.

A/N: Kurama and Hiei have both been dumped down a dumbwaiter shaft and chewed on by venomous jaki, but Hiei's resistence to toxins is a trait he inherited from his father. _Firebird Sweet_ has the details.

"Lord Hiei has given me a NAME!"

Sidekick (5: Find A Place To Die)

by

Kenshin

I floated dreamily on a honey-reeking lake. The sky was pink. It was nice. Like a vacation.

But the poison, clogging my nostrils and throat, was a bad idea for a package deal. And some thoughtless soul had tied a boulder to my waist, dragging me to the bottom. The travel agents were definitely going to hear from me on this one. I churned my way upward from the muck and opened my eyes.

I was lying on the ballroom floor.

All around me, jaki were headed for cracks in the walls, for broken windows, for any sort of exit they could find.

Lucky little devils. I wanted to join them.

The badgerines and the mini-oni were taking a bit longer to revive. Some were just getting up, while others staggered woozily about.

"Wait for me," I rasped, but a coughing fit seized me.

I checked the floor to see whether I hadn't spewed up both lungs. No lungs on floor. Good sign.

Hiei was limping toward me. "Gizmo?"

Gizmo? Oh. That's me. I wondered if Hiei had sustained any serious damage. Sustained is a big word. Does Gizmo know such a big word? What did Hiei say back then about a dichotomy? Another big word. Too big for Gizmo's aching head.

Gizmo. That's me. Gizmo reached into a shirt pocket, extracted a green capsule, bit it. Antidote. Tasted sour. Kiranti toxin smells sweet.

It took effect. My head cleared somewhat. From the floor, I offered a capsule to Hiei.

He waved my concerns aside. "Save it for the weaklings."

I looked. The unconscious vagrant was sprawled near me.

Hiei trudged over to the varmint. "Better secure him."

Good old tough cowpoke Hiei. Good old nonfatal poison that still made me sick as a mangy dog.

"Allow me," I coughed. I crawled closer, to assist Hiei. Sidekicks named Gizmo cannot afford to be proud.

Scraping together a few bits of bottomed-out spirit power, I coaxed a fresh Thrashvine to tie the varmint.

The last of the badgerines wove their way out of the ballroom, and Hiei regarded them with satisfaction. "Now that the Territory's gone, they'll find their way back to the woods."

The jaki manipulator was waking up. Half-conscious, he began to struggle against his restraints, which only made the Thrashvine draw tighter.

I forced myself to rise and drag over a couple of chairs. Or Gizmo did anyway.

The vagrant sat up. He could indeed have passed for Tarukane Gonzo's slightly less hideous younger cousin-coarse dark features, sly, darting eyes.

Give me a minute and Gizmo will be right as rain. I don't talk this way. Gizmo does.

I spun the chair and straddled it. "Name, please?"

Hiei elected to remain standing. "I'd do as he says."

"Don't hurt me!" The vagrant tried to hide his face in his hands, but failed, being trussed like a pot roast.

"Hurt you?" I raised an eyebrow. "Now there's an idea."

"Those monsters," he whimpered. "They were controlling me!" He rolled his eyes first at Hiei, then me. "That vulture thing!"

"Tell us all about it," I said dryly.

"You saw how it was, didn't you?" When we kept silent, he repeated himself. "Didn't you?"

"Save your breath." Hiei folded his arms. "We know about your Ability."

"My what?" Tarukane Junior feigned innocence.

"It was, in fact, the opposite," I told him. "You have the ability to control jaki, and you were using them to run the workers out of the hotel."

Hiei took a step toward him. "Who are you?"

Who indeed? What did this varmint know about us? Did he know of our relationship to Shayla Kidd, and to the producer who rightfully owned the Taiyou Lake House? Was he a former foe, or merely the crony of one?

"My name is-ahhh-" He cast his gaze desperately around the ballroom. "Johnny Ballroom."

Hiei laughed out loud.

I waited for the laughter to fade. "Go on."

The culprit looked from Gizmo to Hiei. A bread of sweat crawled down his brow. Had Gizmo been an angel of mercy, I'd have wiped it off. "All right!" he said, "I confess! I wanted to get that American Cowgirl to sign with me instead of Fujitsu!"

I thought, _He doesn't even know Shayla Kidd's name._

"We're all ears," said Hiei.

"Well..." 'Johnny Ballroom's' gaze darted hither and yon. "I own a club across town from Bongo Rive. I just wanted that girl for my club, I swear."

_Gizmo swears to transfer his headache to this varmint. _

"I tried to scare the workers off so this project would tank," he continued. "At the end of the 'American Cowgirl' run she'd have nowhere to sign but with me." His tongue darted out to lick his lips. "I'll pay damages, I promise!"

_He's talking too fast, too easily._

I glanced at Hiei. Only someone who knew him well could see the thunder in his eyes.

Smooth as butter sliding onto a biscuit, we assumed our roles. Only we didn't play good cop, bad cop. More like good cowboy, bad Gizmo.

"The name of your club?" asked Hiei.

"It's-it's small," said 'Johnny.' "You probably never heard of it."

"You'd be surprised what I've heard of," Hiei drawled.

"It's, uh, called The Very Small Club."

"You're right." This time Hiei did not laugh. "Never heard of it."

"Where is this very small club?" I asked.

"Uhm, it's, you know, across town."

I held his gaze with roofing nails. "That girl on the standee didn't look the type to go for a low-pay gig."

"Okay, I-I lost the club lease! I was going to rent a hall, though, I swear it. I-"

"You rival producers can undercut each other to your heart's content," Hiei said. "However..." He left the rest to me.

My smile was made of ice. "Why would you try to kill us because of a contract dispute involving someone else?"

"I didn't wreck the dumbwaiter," Johnny cried. "Those monsters did it!"

Hiei gave him a half-lazy look. "Didn't mention any dumbwaiter."

I ran my hands through my hair, extracted the rosebud, twirled it between thumb and forefinger. "Your vulture friend was right. My hands spit death." I unfurled the Rose Whip, cracked it against the parquet floor.

Hiei gaped at me in evident shock. "You can't be serious!" He was playing his part to perfection, proving Shayla Kidd wasn't the only actor in that family.

"Watch me." _Crack!_ Wood chips went flying.

"You're really going to kill this guy for just that?"

"Not 'just that' as you put it. He cost me blood."

"Hey, I'm bleeding every bit as much as you and then some."

"That's the difference between us." I gave the Rose Whip another crack, which took another chunk of floor, and also about everything I had. "I want to see some of his."

"Come on," Hiei pleaded. I did not respond. He said to Johnny, "I don't know if I can hold him back."

But the culprit wasn't cracking as easily as the floor. And while Johnny sweated, I became aware of a seeping warmth that flooded my pants pocket. A glance confirmed that the unpleasant sensation wasn't imaginary. "It's WET," I complained.

Johnny giggled like a mean schoolgirl. Hiei declined to join in. Gingerly, I reached into the pocket.

The club-wielding jaki. The miniature Joruju Saotome. With a sense of distaste, I drew him from my pocket, sodden Manto leaf and all, and set him on the floor.

I had forgotten all about him.

On contact with fresh air, leaf dissolved. The little jaki shook himself all over and looked up at us, blue as a robin's egg, yellow hair tonsured like a monk's, the size of my hand or better, clad in a tiger-striped toga.

"Kill it!" Johnny shrilled. "It's a monster!"

"That little thing?" Hiei studied the creature.

"Well?" I gave Hiei a sour look. "You wanted him. _You_ talk to him."

"Fine." Kneeling to better address the jaki, Hiei asked, "What's your name?"

He ducked his head, and in that gravel-pit voice said, "Don't have one."

The significance of a name among low-level jaki is great. Only the elite, that caste born to serve barons and kings, are named at birth. For one to be named now, so late in life-

Hiei sighed. "Can't just say 'hey there.' Think I'll call you Blue."

Blue raised his head, his homely face alight with joy. Tears glimmered in his eyes. "Lord Hiei has given me a NAME!"

"Try to contain your glee," I grumbled, "and tell us something useful."

"Anything!" Blue wrung his hands in servile eagerness.

I lifted my lip at Johnny Ballroom. "And if you so much as think of casting your Territory again, you'll taste this." I cracked the Whip-but it was my final effort.

"Don't listen to anything that lying maggot says!"

Blue shut his eyes, trembling.

Hiei got up again. "He can't control you now. And he's no show-biz producer. So tell me what this bastard really wants."

Now that he had a champion and protector in 'Lord Hiei,' Blue proved his worth. "There's something in the lake."

"I suspected as much," I sighed.

Hiei gave me a sidelong glance. "Did you now."

"Back at the atrium, I was looking at the lake, saw a shadow move across it, thought I sensed something, but-"

"And that one wants it." Blue pointed at Johnny.

"It's a lie!" he shouted. "Who'd want a thing like that?"

"But I don't understand." Blue turned his puzzled expression to us. "It's just a Slowpoke."

A strange light kindled in Hiei's eyes. "Slowpoke, huh? "So much for paying damages."

My turn for the sidelong look. "What do you mean?"

"Outside." Hiei jerked his head at the French doors.

"What about Johnny Liar here?"

"He's roped like a heifer," said Hiei, "and this won't take long." With the varmint hog-tied, we stepped out of the ballroom and into fresh air.

Reluctant to be left alone with Johnny, Blue scampered after us and ran down to the lake, where he washed up.

Clouds hid the sun. The opposite shore looked like an old sepia-toned print, devoid of other color, but the soft lap of water reached our ears, and we smelled muddy grass.

Hiei spoke in English again, in case either Blue or Johnny should overhear. "That thing in the lake might be big and harmless but it pukes up gems."

Former thief Hiei would know. Sometimes he knows a thing or two even King of Thieves Youko Kurama does not.

"Slowpoke's what the rubes call it," Hiei explained. "It's an Inochi Uo Don," he said. The name meant something like 'Slow Life Fish.' "They live just about forever, resemble big catfish, but are actually a distant relation to dragons."

"Hiei, we don't have much time."

"And I'm losing patience with that idiot."

"Can you sense the Slowpoke?"

"Yeah. Now that I'm standing right on top of it."

"What's it doing here?"

"The lake's deep." Hiei regarded its surface with narrowed eyes. "It probably came through to this plane in ages past and is too big or lazy to get back. They eat mud, near as I can tell. The gems will be at the bottom of the lake. They're big, the size of a hen's egg. Almost as valuable as Hiruiseki."

Almost as valuable as the Teargems produced by the Kourime? The Ice Maidens, one of whom had been Hiei's mother?

At one time, Youko Kurama would have been diving to the bottom of the lake, bag in hand. "I'm not interested."

"Never thought I'd say it, but me neither."

Breathing fresh air conjured a new coughing fit which shook me as a dog shakes a rat. When it stopped, I had to lean over, bracing my hands on my knees. "Hiei, I'm tapped out."

"To tell the truth I'm a little worse for wear myself."

"You? I thought you were immune to everything."

"Some. So let's wrap this up."

"About time," I sighed. All I wanted was to foist Johnny Ballroom off on Koenma-sama, get in the car, and return home. Bed sounded good. A bath sounded good. Maybe a bowl of gruel.

Switching back to Japanese, and calling Blue to his side, Hiei pointed to the ballroom. "How did that guy know about the Slowpoke?"

"The vulture-demon told him," replied Blue. "He's been coming here a while now, talking with it."

Hiei and I exchanged looks. The vulture wasn't going to do any talking. Johnny was going to explain to Koenma. The secret of the lake was safe.

We went inside, and Blue followed us like a poodle. The vulture's buddy was still tied up.

"Blue," said Hiei, "this is where we part company. You'll have to go see Koenma, as a material witness."

"With HIM?" Blue cast Johnny a fearful glance. "Why?"

"They won't hurt you," Hiei assured him. "Him, though..." He jerked his head scornfully at the trussed varmint. The varmint glared back.

Hiei reached into his pocket for the phone.

"But is that why he's going to blow it up?" Blue kept his gaze on our prisoner. "Because of a Slowpoke?"

In the middle of dialing, Hiei slid the phone back. "Blow what up?"

"This place." Blue gave a very human shrug. "When everyone was gone, he said, so no one else would buy it."

I wanted to tear out handfuls of my hair. "Something you might have possibly have mentioned _earlier._"

"I was stuffed in your pocket," Blue pointed out.

"Pocket or no, he's right." 'Johnny Ballroom's' mean-schoolgirl giggle cut our chatter short. "I stashed enough stuff to blow this dive to the moon."

I regarded our captive with distaste. This varmint had set an army on us, pitched us down a dumbwaiter, and evaded us at every turn, but now we had him. He still annoyed me. I clenched both fists. "Why stop there? Why balk at blowing up a handful of workers?"

"Why indeed?" A rattlesnake smile creased the varmint's face. "I just set off the detonator. And you'll never find the bombs in time."

-30-

(To be concluded: A ticking bomb sets Hiei and Kurama scrambling to stop it.)


	6. Sidekick 6: Hang 'Em High

Please read Disclaimer in Prelude/Chapter One.

Title: Sidekick (6: Hang 'Em High)

Author: JaganshiKenshin

Genre: Action/Adventure, Humor

Rating: K+/PG-13 (for anime-style fight scenes/language)

Summary: Hiei and Kurama have five minutes to find and disarm the bombs-but Hiei may have gone off the deep end.

A/N: Any character sketches can be viewed on my blogspot.

As Kurama draws deeper into the mess, his language and thoughts shift to those of a cowboy's sidekick.

Thanks for reading this. It was fun writing this over the summer, lots of fun playing with Western movie titles, and good to have Kurama back. I appreciate your reviews!

"You'll die right along with me!"

Sidekick (6: Hang 'Em High)

by

Kenshin

"You'll never find the bombs!" 'Johnny Ballroom' leered in triumph. "And I just set off the detonator."

_Detonator? How? He's hog-tied on the floor._ It was ironic that Hiei had joked about blowing the place up. Now we were facing that possibility for real.

_If this varmint's controlling a device with his Ability... Could be. Hiei mentioned Johnny's Ability might have blocked his phone from working._ "Then you'll die with us," I said.

"What'sa matter?" Johnny's mean-schoolgirl laugh grated on my ears. "Scared of a little bomb?"

_Is he crazy enough to mean it? Is he self-destructive, or just a self-serving thug who lost control?_

Johnny's beady eyes challenged, said he was a man capable of blowing himself up, too. I began to sweat right along with him.

Hiei, on the other hand, seemed remarkably unconcerned. Un-naturally calm, in fact. He switched to a broad Kanto accent, the Japanese approximation of John Wayne English. "Now don't you fret yourself none, Gizmo. I got this'n."

As well as we think we know someone, we're never really sure in this life what deeds he's capable of performing, what pressures he can resist, what trigger breaks him.

Although Hiei's resistence to toxins is sky-high, his glacial calm was worrisome. He was tough, but not invulnerable, and as I myself wasn't thinking clearly, there was a good chance Hiei wasn't firing on all cylinders either.

That meant one thing: we were dead men walking.

Nevertheless I said to Johnny, "Tell us where you planted the bombs and how to disarm the detonator."

Animal cunning narrowed his eyes. "Release me first!"

In a minute or so, Johnny would have his wish. The Thrashvine, whether he'd noticed or not, was coming undone.

The countdown-how many minutes had passed? The hotel would be lost in a fiery conflagration, along with everything in it: the chairs, the piano, the American Cowgirl standee. Even if we ran now, we might die.

"Lord Hiei-" I had forgotten Blue again. There he was, at our feet, his gravel-pit voice imploring, "My people-we'll find the bombs-"

"No time." Hiei grinned down at him. "Gizmo, you take Blue and get on out of here. But before you go, give me your belt."

"I thought you said belt."

"Never mind. His'll do." Quick as a striking rattlesnake, Johnny's belt was in Hiei's hand even before I finshed puzzling it out. "You and Blue better git."

"I'm not 'gitting' anywhere unless..." A weary Gizmo rummaged his exhausted brain for a truth serum, a bomb shelter, a Johnny Stopper. I was weak as wet tissue paper but saw only one possible solution. "Grab Johnny," I said, "and run."

Hiei appeared to consider this for an eternity. "Don't think so," he said, "But at least get Blue out of here."

"Shoo," I said, but Blue did not obey as he would 'Lord Hiei.' He sidled toward the French doors, as though not quite comprehending we'd be blown to bits.

"Go on, Gizmo," Hiei nodded. "You next."

If Blue was standing pat, surely Hiei could not expect me to run out on him. Yet-

"One last thing before you go." Hiei gave me a wicked grin. "You a bettin' man?"

"A what?"

"Got me in mind some frontier justice in the form of a good ol'-fashioned necktie party."

"I-yes, sure, okay." _What on earth's he doing?_

Hiei's eyes fixed on me, glittering, perhaps a bit mad. "C'mon, Gizmo, you know this. Necktie party. Git ahold of a tree and a horse, but I don't see neither here."

I admitted the ballroom was lacking in trees and horses.

"Well, this here varmint cost me my necktie, but a belt's stronger." Even as he spoke, Hiei looped Johnny's belt around his neck and drew it tight in spite of his protests. "'Course, to do this here thing right an' proper, we'd need us a rope. You know. Hangin'."

I watched Johnny sweat, wondering who'd crack first.

"So, Gizmo." Hiei tightened the belt another notch. "Just in case I make it out of here alive, you willing to take a bet?"

"Bet?"

"A bet. As to whether the hotel will blow itself up afore this here cattle rustler's eyeballs pop right out'n his head when I string him up t' choke t' death."

Gizmo hadn't taken countless anatomy classes for nothing. "Wouldn't he break his neck first?"

"B-break-my-?" Ballroom's eyes all but popped even without benefit of hanging.

Hiei said, "You're right. He might could break his neck. Too quick. Where's the fun in that?"

"Hiei-" _With his legendary speed, even if the bombs go off, Hiei could dive into the lake, the best chance for survival. But where does that leave Johnny? Not to mention Gizmo?_

Hiei glanced at the ceiling. "Too high. No beams."

"String me up?" Johnny gave me a desperate look. "Hey, I got rights!"

Hiei snorted. "Not here you don't." Varmint in one hand, chair in the other, Hiei set out for the elevator. "Got me a brainstorm. If I bust open the access panel an' take a chair, hook the belt to whatever runs outside th' panel..."

My brain slid one way, my belly the other.

"Too late!" screamed Johnny. "Too late! The timer!"

"You mean this?" Hiei took a device from his pocket and dangled it in Johnny's face.

I released a deep breath. Breathing made my head hurt.

The device resembled an oversized stop-watch, with two large buttons set in the rim, one red, the other black.

My jaw dropped. "When did you?-"

"When I got his belt off."

That simple bit of pick-pocketing would have done Youko Kurama proud. As for Hiei, he bared his teeth. "ENOUGH."

He raised his right hand. I heard a whump and a crackle; a flame burst forth in his palm, a flame so white it hurt the eyes and heat ripples distorted the air around it.

"Hanging's too good for the likes of you." Hiei stretched his hand toward Johnny and the flame leapt forward, licked at Johnny's chin. "Should I start with your feet?" wondered Hiei. "Your eyeballs?"

Johnny turned the color of putty.

"No preference?"

"Hiei," I whispered, but he ignored me.

"Tell me how to disarm this," Hiei purred. "Or hang. Or I tear your arm off and stuff it down your throat. None of them pretty, but at least it's a multiple choice test."

Johnny stared at Hiei, then at the device.

"Guess it's _my_ choice," Hiei said. The flame danced closer, like a tiny sun eager to feed on the varmint's eyes.

I reckon Johnny wanted to live after all. Jerking back from the flame, he shouted, "The black button! Click it twice!"

Hiei yawned.

"CLICK IT!" screamed the varmint.

"Idiot." Turning, Hiei raised an eyebrow at me. "Doesn't his kind ever stop to think? Blowing up the hotel would bring an army of investigators."

My legs were jelly. "Hiei," I rasped. "The button-"

"And they'd trawl the lake and find the gems."

"Forget the gems!" Johnny wasn't giggling now. "You can have them!"

"Tell me something, Gizmo. Was I this stupid back in my thieving days?"

My mouth was too dry to respond.

"You had Johnny here hog-tied." Hiei seemed to be enjoying his speculation. "The only thing he could move was his hands. Bet he got one in his pocket and set this off by accident." Hiei held up the detonator. "But then he couldn't be sure of the right button to turn it off again, and figured he could threaten us into letting him go."

My heart was pounding so hard my voice shook. "H-hiei-"

"Not realizing you and I could just stroll out of here and leave him to blow up with the hotel."

"It's past five minutes!" screamed Johnny.

_What he said._

With the flame still alight in his hand, Hiei gave a throughful frown. "Of course, that wouldn't reflect well on me."

Johnny's face twisted in terror. "CLICK THE BUTTON!"

"Already did."

_Gizmo needs to sit down. Right now. On the floor._

I scrubbed at my face, then when I could breathe again, I squinted up at Hiei. "You just _had_ to have your fun."

Hiei extinguished the flame. "Fun? Never heard of it."

From the French doors came the soft calming lap of water and a scent of grass. Blue scampered back to our side.

Despite Hiei's success in saving us all from death, Johnny declined to thank him. "You gonna leave this belt on my neck?"

"How thoughtless of me." Yanking Johnny by the belt, Hiei dragged him to a chair, and strapped him to it before Gizmo was even done enjoying his time on the floor.

Then he brought me a chair. "How you doing, Gizmo?"

I levered myself into the chair. "Me? I'm bitten and scratched and stung, missed my anatomy class, fell down a dumbwaiter shaft, I can still taste the Kiranti poison, and we almost got blown up. To top it off, a miniature Joruju Saotome used my pocket for a litter box."

Hiei folded his arms. "I hope you have a change of clothes, because those pants are not going in my car."

I studied Johnny. The varmint was a lot shorter than I was and bigger around, but for a two-hour car ride, it would do. "You," I said. "Switch pants with me. Now."

With that done, I rummaged in my pockets for some first aid.

Hiei stepped away to phone Reikai and ask Koenma-sama for a ferry girl. Then he moseyed on back to us. "They're sending someone to pick up 'Johnny' for arraignment. And a bomb squad to sweep the hotel."

_Now where's that dang bottle?_ "Simple as that."

"Not quite." Hiei indicated Johnny. "This guy's real name? Sako Tiyoshi."

I looked him over again. Hangdog, defiant little runt. Filthy, sweaty, ungrateful varmint. "Johnny Ballroom suits him better." _If you were going for a sense of the absurd._

"Used to work for Fujitsu at Bongo Rive," Hiei went on. "Bus boy. Had a habit of picking out swank customers, then making jaki follow them and rob them."

"It's a lie," Johnny protested.

"Fujitsu heard about it. Johnny got sent packing."

"Fujitsu's a lying bastard!"

Hiei's look quelled the varmint for a spell. "He gave you a chance when others wouldn't."

"And still owes me for what he did," muttered Johnny.

"Tell it to the judge." Then Hiei glanced around as if seeing the ballroom for the first time. "I'm starved."

"Yes," I said. "Poor Hiei. Must be all of three hours since you last strapped on the feedbag."

Hiei shrugged. "Being a cowboy takes a lot of energy."

_When you find some, mail it to me._ I opened a spray bottle of antiseptic to treat my wounds. The spray bubbled and hissed, biting into my injuries with a pain worse than the original stings, but it had nothing on my headache. Then I moved on to Hiei, wielding the spray with abandon.

"Ouch!" Hiei jumped as though hit with a live wire.

"Quiet, podna," I said. "I'm disinfecting your wounds."

"With kerosene?"

"Don't be such a baby. You'd think this was Holy Water."

"I'm _immune_ to Holy Water."

"Then there's no reason to complain."

"OW! Starting to think I don't need a sidekick after all."

"And I'm starting to like the name Gizmo."

"You're deliberately making it hurt more than it has to."

Blue was looking as though he might leap to 'Lord Hiei's' defense. I told him not to worry. When Hiei's life is hanging by a thread, he says it's a scratch. Apply disinfectant to a minor wound, however, and he wails like a banshee.

"Gizmo," I mused. "It's better than some of the names you call me." I finished up with Hiei. He backed away from me as if he was worried I might start on some other course of treatment.

The varmint glowered from his chair. Since he looked like a man in need of cheering up, I said, "We'll probably be summoned to appear as character witnesses on your behalf."

What Johnny Ballroom called us in reply must not be repeated in decent company.

"I'd mosey on out and wait for the ferry girl if I was you," said Hiei. "This guy reeks of jaki pee."

Blue hopped onto Hiei's shoulder. Hiei laid hold of Johnny Ballroom, chair and all, and hauled him along like luggage.

Resigned at last, Johnny said, "Who are you people anyway?"

Hiei's only reply was, "Cowboys always get their man."

Hiei was probably tired. I was tireder. I wanted nothing more than to dump Johnny Ballroom on the ferry girl, trudge home, and sink into a boiling bath.

But the hotel was not quite finished with us.

Thinking back, this was a mistake on my part, but I took one final glance around the ballroom.

I don't know what I expected to see. Same musty stacked chairs, dirty parquet floor, and warped piano.

Like an invisible hand on my shoulder, an unsettling sensation laid hold of me, some witchy tingle of apprehension, as if there was a presence I had not noticed. The air shimmered as though my eyes, still affected by the poison, were watering.

Something moved.

Mouth dry, scalp pricking, I was imagining everything from another jaki assault to the Slowpoke rising from the lake. I studied the ballroom-and froze where I stood.

Without releasing Johnny, Hiei also stopped, though he seemed not alarmed, but merely puzzled. We stood shoulder to shoulder, waiting while I counted my heartbeats.

At first, I saw only smears of shadows, swirling across the floor. When I blinked, it wasn't my eyes that cleared.

It was the room itself that came into focus.

A floor that now gleamed reflected silken walls, equally shining. Like fog solidifying, the moving shadows gradually coalesced, taking on the form of people.

I watched in amazement as the pianist in evening clothes sat at a Baldwin concert grand, conjuring the opening chords of Gershwin's _Rhapsody In Blue._

It's said that if you see a friend in an unfamiliar setting, you might not recognize him. The same holds true with hearing a song played on a different instrument.

That musical riff I'd been hearing all along was the opening to _Rhapsody in Blue._ But I wasn't able to identify it because on the famed recording, it's played on a clarinet, not a piano.

People started dancing. Laughter and music filled the air.

These were not ghosts. I don't know how, or by what means, but I was seeing the resort in its full splendor.

Then, like snowflakes melting, the vision faded back into the abandoned ballroom.

Sako Tiyoshi, petty thug and would-be bomber, squirmed in the prison of his chair. "What the hell are you lookin' at?"

Perched on Hiei's shoulder, Blue kept very still.

The Taiyou Lake House. Around every corner a mystery, an enigma, or maybe an empty dumbwaiter shaft.

I caught Hiei's gaze, wondering if I was hallucinating, an after-effect of swilling assorted poisons.

"Always liked that tune," he said.

_I am more than ready to leave._ "Yippie ki yay, cowboy."

"Amen, Gizmo," Hiei said, and we went into the parking lot, where the sun was shining again.

-30-

(A/N: Thanks for reading this! Please scroll down for a preview of the lighthearted tale when Hiei meets an Elvis impersonator and a professional wrestler-all in the same yakitori-filled night.)

Are You Loathsome Tonight?

by

Kenshin

The sea of passersby parted to emit a dark-visaged man in his 30s. By contrast, Shayla Kidd turned the color of a paper napkin. "G-g-Gonzalez-sensei! Wh-what are you d-d-doing here?"

Gonzalez had the blocky physique of a fireplug, and his flat-nosed face sported two little darts of a moustache on a long upper lip. "Workin,'" he replied. "Shouldn't the question be more like, 'What're _you_ doin' here, all the way in Japan?"

Hiei had never seen her at a loss for words.

_You look like you've seen a ghost,_ he thought at her.

_Just a haunting,_ she thought back.

The little man turned to Hiei and grinned, his teeth flashing white against the tobacco hue of his skin. "Wrestlin'," he said. "Back in Mexico City I was known as El Chupacabra."

"Bad choice of names," muttered Hiei. _Though he's hairy enough._

The hairy interloper thrust out a hand. "Ernesto Gonzalez. Everyone just calls me Gonzo."

Hiei did not shake hands. "I take it then you're the one who taught this idiot woman to swing a sword like it was a machete."

"Hey, I'm a wrestler, not a martial artist."

"That's not what it said in your window." Shay-san had recovered the use of her voice and fingers, ticking off the list: "Karate, kendo-"

Gonzo shrugged. "All the same. See, this little girl would've made a great wrestler. But noo, she's gotta learn to swing a sword."

"-children's parties," she went on.

Hiei's mouth twitched in amusement. "So you really did work children's parties."

"I ate bugs. You know kids; they love that gag."

"Well." Shay-san gave Ernesto Gonzalez a fiercely laminated smile. "Lovely running into you, but we-"

"Hey, man!" Linking his arm through hers, Gonzo pulled her down the street, far from the haven of the Silver Moon. "Is that a yakitori grill?"

(To be continued)


End file.
